


Pillow Talk

by siriusblue



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Old Married Couple, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 07:05:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14764920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriusblue/pseuds/siriusblue
Summary: News from an acquaintance leaves Mycroft feeling his age. Greg reminds him it's only a number.





	Pillow Talk

PILLOW TALK

 

Written for Soft Smut Sunday on Tumblr and for Black_Dawn who deserves all the love in the world and asked for more Mystrade.

  
  
  


“Congratulations again, Harry.” said Mycroft warmly and ended the call, placing his mobile on the bedside table.

 

From the bathroom he could hear the finishing-off sounds of his husband's nighttime ablutions, then the door opened and Greg sauntered in.

 

It should be impossible to look seductive in boxer shorts and a baggy t-shirt and yet Greg managed it, his smile warm and loving as he climbed into bed beside Mycroft.

 

“Did I hear your phone?” asked Greg.

 

“Yes, it was Harry.”

 

“Harry from the Palace Harry?” 

 

Mycroft swatted Greg lightly on the arm.

 

“Peasant. How many Harrys have my private number?”

 

“I dunno,” laughed Greg.” For all I know you could have a list of them.”

 

Mycroft looked sternly at his husband.

 

“You've got the wrong Lestrade-Holmes. You are the devastatingly attractive one, remember?”

 

Greg kissed his husband softly.

 

“Who only has eyes for you. So what did Harry want?”

 

“Nothing. He rang to tell me that he became a grandfather yesterday. “

 

Greg’s grin threatened to split his face in two.

 

“Aw, that's great news! Boy or girl?”

 

“I am reliably informed it is a girl. Three and a half kilos.”

 

“Lovely. We'll have to send them something.”

 

“I shall leave that to your usual exquisite taste, Gregory.”

 

“I'll sort it out tomorrow.”

 

Greg looked closely at Mycroft. There was a distinct sadness in his eyes and that troubled Greg.

 

“Hey,” he said softly. “What's up? Who's been filling your head with rainclouds?”

 

Mycroft smiled. 

 

“It's nothing. It's just...oh, I'm being ridiculous.”

 

Greg frowned. This wasn't like Mycroft at all.

 

“What?” he asked.

 

“I assure you, Gregory. It's not worth mentioning.”

 

“Bullshit.” said Greg firmly.

 

Mycroft propped himself up on his elbow and sighed.

 

“It's just...Harry is two years my junior and he's a grandfather. Suddenly I feel incredibly old.”

 

“We are old,” sighed Greg. “Well, not that old but still. We're not twenty-one any more.”

 

Greg reached out his hand and stroked Mycroft’s cheek.

 

“Thank goodness for that.”

 

Mycroft looked surprised and Greg drew him close as he continued.

 

“If we'd met when we were younger, do you imagine that we'd be here now? Fifteen years married and you still as heart-stoppingly gorgeous as the day I first saw you? No. Both of us had a lot of crap to work through before we were ready for a commitment like this. Age and experience does have its compensations, darlin’.”

 

Mycroft kissed him gently.

 

“You're right, of course.”

 

His right hand slid up the inside of Greg's thigh.

 

“Are we too old for this?” Mycroft asked.

 

Greg's smile was positively devilish.

 

“We will never be too old for this,” he replied, grinding his hips against Mycroft's questing fingers. 

 

“I hope not,” sighed Mycroft, stroking Greg's erection while his other hand pulled up on the hem of Greg's t-shirt.

 

Greg removed his underwear with practiced ease and watched Mycroft wriggle out of his pyjamas.

 

Greg’s fingers danced lightly over Mycroft's chest, through the hair that had once been every shade of autumn and was now winter frosted white as he kissed every freckle on his arms and shoulders.

 

Mycroft sighed with pleasure at the softness of Greg's touch, covering Greg's hand with his own and guiding it downwards.

 

Greg chuckled as he wrapped his hand around Mycroft's hardness.

 

“Is this what you want, gorgeous?”

 

Mycroft hummed his assent. “You as well.”

 

“Anything for you,” murmured Greg, releasing Mycroft and reaching into the drawer in his bedside table for the lube while Mycroft watched through half-lidded eyes.

 

Greg slicked his right hand generously and returned to his husband.

 

“Now, where were we?”

 

Mycroft pulled Greg onto him, gasping as Greg's broad fingers easily spanned both their cocks, the slippery texture of the lube, fresh sweat and pre-come making his hand glide effortlessly as Mycroft arched his hips upward, moaning aloud at the sensations flooding him.

 

Greg's eyes were all pupil, never leaving Mycroft's face as their overheated flesh created exquisite friction. He bit his bottom lip as he concentrated on tipping Mycroft over the edge; a gesture that never failed to drive Mycroft wild. Even seeing him do it outside of their bedroom could make Mycroft hard in seconds.

 

They were both close now; Greg's movements becoming erratic and Mycroft fucking even harder into his husband's fist as he felt his orgasm ignite with the power of a thousand suns, coming helplessly over Greg's hand and his own stomach as Greg moaned Mycroft's name aloud and followed him, adding his own stripes of come to Mycroft's belly.

 

Greg collapsed on the bed beside Mycroft, their breathing loud in the quiet room.

 

“You're incredible,” sighed Mycroft happily as they held each other close. “I love you so much.”

 

Greg kissed him gently on the mouth.

 

“I love you too. I'll just go and get a cloth.”

 

“No rush,” replied Mycroft, curling up against Greg like a contented feline.

 

“You're right,” said Greg, holding him closer still. “Showers are much more fun. “

 

Mycroft didn't reply, he had fallen asleep. With a soft chuckle, Greg pulled the duvet tight around them and switched off the light.

 

The End.

  
  



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